Page 11 of Prince Cheating Charming

He gestured over to the sideboard, which was fairly groaning with a sumptuous banquet, including a glistening golden pheasant and a mountain of delicate pies and pastries.

“Maurice is of course another devotee,” Libby said, the smile in her voice.

“Read on, my dear ma’am,” Magnus said.

“O St. Constance,” Libby read from her prayer-book. “Steel our hearts full of righteous anger for punishing the evil-doers.”

I looked down at the prayer-book I had been handed, which had a portrait of St. Constance making a snakeskin purse out of a snake that had eaten one of her pet mice.

“She’s the patron saint of vengeance,” Magnus said. “We invoke her help to stiffen our back bones to do what’s right.”

“She’s a bitch,” Roger grinned. “But we love her that way.”

I felt a little spark, just a tiny little spark, of joy.

The service was not overlong, and soon we were digging into the delicious food Maurice had provided. I had been too sick to my stomach to eat much breakfast or lunch, but I suddenly felt hungry and sat down thankfully beside Libby.

“It’s—it’s relaxing being here,” I said haltingly. “Things at the palace are—a little uncomfortable.”

I felt stupid even as I said it. I had almost been thinking like they could be my first friends in the palace. Now they would all assure me what a great guy Alexander was. He was their King, after all.

Or they would be so sorry for me that the pity would overwhelm me and I’d be too ashamed to come back.

But they surprised me.

“May St. Constance strike down all cheats and liars,” Magnus said firmly.

“Amen,” added Libby.

I felt conflicted. Was Alexander just a repulsive cheat and a liar?

But maybe he wouldn’t do it again. . .

Maybe I could be hotter, better, more fascinating and he wouldn’t. . .

As we all ate, I looked around at the chapel. Inside it did need some repairs. There had been a mural that went all around the walls at some point, but time had treated it so poorly that the colors had faded, and I could barely tell what the pictures were supposed to be of.

“I’d love to help you restore them,” I said, and Magnus looked hopeful.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he said longingly. “Really do St. Constance justice.”

“I could help you with that,” I said nervously, but then with more confidence.

I was a good artist. I knew I was. Finally, here was something I knew I was good at. I had even taken courses in restoration.

“I don’t want all the same stuff,” Magnus said thoughtfully. “Could you modernize some of it, maybe? I have a list of some sins I want to add.”

“Whatever you like,” I said, feeling confident for the first time in ages. I don’t know if it was St. Constance’s gimlet eye looking down at me, but I felt a tiny spark of hope.

“Come here anytime you want,” Magnus said firmly. “You are welcome here and we can decide together how to organize the new mural.”

CHAPTER 4

Delilah

Itried to ignore all of the palace gossip, the way all the glances at me were alternately mocking or sympathetic, the way I couldn’t even go on my phone without being blasted in the face with the scandalous news of my husband’s infidelity.

NEW KING HAS LUST FOR TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENTS, SECRETARY one headline screamed at me.

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